Epic Love
by 2violetflower15
Summary: Rick and Michonne navigate their way through an unexpected pregnancy. (Set post 6x16, about 4 months after the couch scene.)
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is a story that started as a simple one shot, but ended up being something a little more. It has the potential to become a Richonne pregnancy fic, but I'm still not sold on turning it into a multi-chapter. We'll see. I do have some other fics in the works, so I'm not making any decisions yet. Let me know what you think. In the meantime, I'm complete trash, so here's a little fluffy smut. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

The stars were bright in the sky. That was one of the things she found comforting about the new world they found themselves living in: the stars. There was no light pollution to compete with the stars for brilliance. They were finally able to shine, uninhibited by artificial competition. Even the half moon seemed to bow to their authority, hiding its blueish glow behind the only cloud in the nighttime sky. It was a beautiful night, the perfect night for a romantic moonlight picnic. Rick had set the whole thing up, with a little help from Carol. They'd made a delightful little meal of rabbit stew, biscuits, and a huge bag of stale M&M's for dessert. Carl even helped out by offering to stay with Judith. Really, he and Judith were staying with Glenn and Maggie for the night, but it was nice of him to offer.

This moonlight picnic was supposed to be a mini vacation. As if it were possible to take a vacation in this world. Michonne was having a hard time believing that she even deserved such a thing. How could she take a vacation when the Saviors were still out there? How could she let her guard down when her friends and family were disappearing right in front of her? A lump suddenly formed in her throat and she swallowed hard to push it down There would be no sad tears, not tonight. Tonight was about turning off their brains. It was about the tiny kisses that Rick was planting on her skin. Tonight was about the stars.

Michonne drew her knees into her chest and leaned into Rick with a contented sigh. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"What's that?" He asked between kisses. He sat behind her. She was between his legs, enveloped in his warm embrace. His thumbs drew lazy circles over the soft skin of her inner wrists.

"The stars," she answered quietly, tilting her head to the side, encouraging him to continue his caresses.

"I hadn't really noticed. Been busy..." his words were muffled as he trailed tender kisses along her shoulder, only stopping to tease her with the tip of his nose while he inhaled her scent. "You smell good, what is that?"

She smiled, "Deodorant?" Her voice had a lilt that danced in the subtle breeze. His kisses stopped and she turned around to look at him over her shoulder.

"That's all you?" His question held a hint of a growl which made her pulse jump.

She only shrugged and gave him a coquettish smile. "Just Eau de Michonne."

"You smell great, you taste great," his tongue licked the spot his lips had just touched moments before, "and you feel so damn good."

His fingers danced lightly over the undersides of her breasts and Michonne arched her back slightly, craving more of his touch. "You, Rick Grimes, are so bad."

"Bad," he mumbled against her skin, "what did I do?" He moved his fingers to her nipples, circling the buds through the thin cotton of her t-shirt until they pebbled under his touch.

Michonne let her head fall back against his shoulder with a quiet moan of delight, and gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Gods that she'd had the foresight to go without a bra. His hands were like magic. The softest touch had her melting into him; a deep pool of desire. Sometimes it surprised her how easily he affected her. She had never been the type to behave like a lovestruck teenager. She'd always been the rational one, the one who'd held things together. In her previous relationships, her partners had mostly deferred to her. _Which restaurant should we go to, Michonne?_ _What should I get my mother for Christmas, Michonne?_ She had been the decision maker, not because she had some pressing need to be, but because she most often knew what was best. Her relationship with Rick was a lot like that too. Everyone knew that there wasn't an opinion he valued more than hers, in all matters. Rick had always been able to see, and appreciate, Michonne's more pragmatic tendencies. He understood her. He trusted her. But Rick also trusted himself. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and he fought hard to get it, whatever _it_ happened to be. Call it instinct, or intuition; it's what has kept him alive. It's what has kept his children alive. It's what's kept the entire family that has formed around him, alive, and fighting by his side. That spirit, that drive... that's what she'd always loved most about him. Now, she had found something else to love.

His hands were weapons. There was a wound in her thigh that held intimate knowledge of the pain his hands were capable of inflicting. That same thigh, could also tell you a very different story, one of whispers and quivers. In his hands, her body was an instrument, and he, a master musician, composing thrilling melodies that danced across her skin. He was the only man to ever make her fully lose the ability to form rational thoughts. When he touched her, she was left without concern. She was completely at his mercy, and totally willing to submit. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Yes, you are very bad," she pouted. "We're supposed to be watching the stars. I thought that's why you brought me over here." The hillside was fairly isolated, considering it was near the intended construction zone for the wall expansion. The house was at the end of a cul-de-sac and had a lovely, and private, backyard. Michonne had been eyeing the house since the plans for the expansion had been proposed, and wondered at Rick's reasoning in choosing this particular location.

He stopped kissing her neck and looked at her with a tilted head and one eyebrow raised in incredulity. "You know damn well why we came over here."

She matched his look with a tilted head and an incredulous eyebrow of her own. "And why _is_ that?" She gave him a knowing smirk.

Rick smiled at her and lowered his head to kiss her softly on the lips. "Because," he explained between kisses, "I want to spend all night making love to you. I want to lick every inch of your delicious skin. I want to finally hear you come," he kissed a path along her jawline and up to her ear, "without worrying about who is going to hear you when you're screaming my name." His eyes met her's with a mischievous smile. "That ain't so bad now, is it?"

"No, Rick. That's not so bad." It was very good, in fact. She just liked to hear him say it, almost as much as she liked to make him wait. "I'm just enjoying being out here." She tilted her head back to the sky. "You know, in all the time we spent out on the road, I don't think I ever really took the time to appreciate the stars."

His thoughtful nod was almost imperceptible, "Yeah, I guess you're right about that." He turned his head to follow her gaze. She missed his lips immediately. "They are beautiful, huh?"

Michonne watched him from over her shoulder. His eyes took on a dreamy far away quality, and she wondered what he was thinking about. She saw his jaw clench and tighten, and her lips twitched with the urge to kiss away his tension. It looked like he was having a hard time turning his brain off too. He was probably thinking about what he'd lost, what they'd all lost.

"Daryl?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said with a heavy sigh.

"You want to talk about it?"

Rick's eyes met hers with a warm gaze and a smile to match. "No, I'm ok," he kissed her nose gently.

"I know," she whispered.

"Because you're ok too, right?"

"Right." A shiver ran up her spine and goosebumps appeared on her skin as a chilly breeze blew through the air. His arms circled her waist and she scooted closer to the warmth his body provided. He rocked her gently in his embrace, the fluid back and forth motion lulling her into a contemplative state. Her mind wandered to that day by the train tracks, after their encounter with the Claimers. That's when it happened. It had been happening for a long time before then, but that's when she'd known for certain. Watching how far he'd go to protect his family had solidified it for her. He was tough, vicious, savage, and sometimes brutal. She'd never forget how badly Carl shook in her arms, how his body was drenched with a cold sweat. It was truly horrifying. But, she understood why Rick did what he did, and she loved him for it. She'd fight just as hard for Carl and Judith now. She would've fought that hard for Andre too.

Michonne shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and turned her attention back to the sparkling sky. "You know," she said with a smile, "I wanted to be an astronomer when I was a kid."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Well, actually, I wanted to be a writer, but I wanted to be an astronomer first."

"You write?"

"Yeah. Or, I used to. Not professionally, or anything, but I did."

"What kind of stuff did you write?"

Michonne chuckled, "Mostly legal analysis."

"What, were you some kinda lawyer or something?

She nodded. "Constitutional law. Daddy was a judge, and he wanted _me_ to be a judge. I was supposed to want that too."

"But you wanted to write," Rick nodded, catching on.

"But I wanted to write," she confirmed in a voice tinged with the sardonic lilt of dreams deferred. "Love stories, of all things. My father thought I was some kind of art loving, pot smoking, bohemian. Some kind of poet-hippie. Can you imagine? The daughter of _two_ distinguished attorneys, one of them a District Court Judge, writing romance novels? The horror."

Rick gave her a low laugh that rumbled in his chest. "What, like those trashy romance novels my Mama used to read?"

"No," Michonne lightly slapped at his hands that were still on her waist, "not like those trashy romance novels your Mama used to read. I'm talking about epic love stories here. Heartbreaking allegories. Fantastic morality tales. War and sacrifice; like the stories written in the stars."

Rick pulled away from her and looked at her through squinted eyes.

"What?"

He kept his gaze on hers and shook his head. "It's just funny. I'm so in love with you, but I feel like I hardly know who you were... before."

"But you know who I am now." She gave him a chaste kiss.

"Yeah," he tightened his hold on her waist and rested his head on her shoulder, "but I want to know all of you."

Michonne's eyes widened and her stomach flipped with the sensation of tiny butterflies taking flight. She loved when he was like this; all soft and cuddly. He was quite possibly the hardest man she'd ever met, all straight lines and sharp angles. But when he was with her like this he was almost… fluffy. Sometimes it seemed like he was two different people: the savage killer who would literally rip your throat out, and this other man; someone light, and full of hope. Even if he were two different people, she knew and loved both of them equally. She did, however find this newer part of him, this cuddly part of him, to be terribly fascinating.

"I know a little about the stars."

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, "Oh yeah?"

"Just a little. I taught Carl a little bit when we were out on the road, before we found the prison." He pointed towards Ursa Major, "That's the big dipper, and that's the _W._ I always forget it's real name," he admitted with a small laugh at himself.

"Cassiopeia."

"That's it, Cassiopeia. Those two, they're always on either side of the Little Dipper, and the North Star is right there." He pointed at Polaris, shining brightly at the tip of the Little Dipper's handle. "If you get lost at night, you just find that star." Rick's voice had taken on a dreamy quality, as if he were suddenly somewhere far away. "My Daddy taught me that."

Michonne stared up at him, again amazed by this other, softer man she was getting to know. His brow was furrowed and a deep crease had formed in his forehead. He looked somewhat pained, and she wondered at it's source. "Were you two close?"

"Me and Pop?" She nodded and Rick inhaled a deep breath, exhaling with a stiff grimace. "Close enough, I guess. I was probably closer to Hershel, to be honest. My daddy was a drunk, and a bigot, so we didn't always see eye to eye." Rick cleared his throat and met her gaze with a sheepish smile. "But, he taught me how to hunt, and he taught me how to find my way home if I ever got lost. So, there's that. He um… he died. Before all this."

"Before. Hmm…" She didn't really know what to say. Before, when someone told you they'd lost a loved one you'd say, _I'm sorry for your loss._ Now it was almost a good thing that their loved ones had died, before. At least that way, they'd been spared the hell of living with the undead. They wouldn't have to know the world, now. Michonne leaned her head against his shoulder and thought about their lives, before. She'd been a big city lawyer, living the kind of life that her parents could be proud of. He was a small town sheriff's deputy, married to, and raising a family with, his high school sweetheart. With a racist father to boot. Their lives couldn't have been more different. "What do you think _we_ would have looked like, before all this? You know, you and me?"

He leaned into her and kissed her cheek gently, "I think we would have looked a lot like this." His words were a soft whisper against her skin.

Michonne sighed and leaned into him, pressing her face firmly into his lips. "I think you're right."

They sat that way, quietly, with their faces pressed together, for a long time. Michonne let her mind drift to thoughts of the two of them in some kind of an alternate universe. She imagined herself as a famous author, traveling through Georgia on a book tour. He was the recently divorced sheriff's deputy, begrudgingly seeing out his assignment as her security detail. She laughed to herself at the story's premise, very much like the cheesy romance novels Rick's Mama used to read, and nothing at all like the epic love tales she'd first imagined herself writing.

She pointed to Rick's _W_ in the sky, "Did you know that Cassiopeia was an Ethiopian Queen? And that one, the one that kinda looks like a house? That's Cepheus, her King. Although I'm not sure why he's up there, the most interesting thing about him was his beautiful Queen."

"Hmm," Rick scoffed, "I can relate."

"Aww," Michonne turned around slightly in his lap to cup his jaw playfully, "I think you're plenty interesting."

"Thanks, babe." He kissed her firmly on the lips, then turned his gaze back to the sky. "King and Queen, immortalized in the stars," his hands moved under her t-shirt to tease the soft skin along her ribcage, "I think I like that."

Michonne moaned and arched her back, leaning into his touch. "Careful," she warned, "They were placed in the sky as a punishment for their vanity."

"Wait, are you insinuating that I'm vain?"

"If any of these thinly veiled references to the two of us as some kind of King and Queen are any indication, then…" she trailed off with a shrug.

His eyebrows shot up into the air as a look of shock formed on his face. "I'm not vain!"

"Ok." A giggle erupted out of her as his fingers tickled the sensitive skin of her waist.

"I'm not. Hell, the only reason I even look in a mirror is because _you_ make me shave at least once a week. Although," He nuzzled his scruffy face into her neck, "I think you secretly like my beard."

Michonne pursed her lips in an attempt to hide the grin that had formed on her face. She did secretly like his beard. She thought the way the salt and pepper stubble framed his face made him look like some kind of cowboy movie star. She would never admit to it though, not after she'd given him such a hard time about it back at the prison. She'd actually been flirting with him back then, she could admit that now. At least to herself, anyway. "I plead the fifth," she said with a chuckle.

"Man, I like it when you talk lawyer to me. It's sexy."

Their lips came together in a soft kiss that quickly escalated into something more, as was often the case with them. Before Michonne knew what was happening, she was on her back with him above her, her fingers tangled in the silky strands of his hair. His lips were plump and soft, and perfect for sucking. She took his bottom lip into her mouth and smiled when he moaned. He repositioned himself so that he was propped up on his elbow next to her, and moved his free hand to undo the button of her pants. "You know, I happen to think you'd be a great queen." He pulled her zipper down and slipped his hand inside her pants, moving past the elastic of her panties, to place one finger on the tiny bundle of nerves that rested there. "And I'd be your King, of course. Alexandria could be our kingdom."

She was already wet for him, she could feel the moisture pooling in her panties. His finger made slow circles on her clit, and she wanted more. She rolled her hips into him, pumping against his hand with greedy thrusts. He stopped his teasing and simply pressed his finger firmly against her button. She groaned and spread her legs wider, "Rick," she whined, "come on."

"Tell me the rest of the story."

She looked into his eyes with disbelief, "Are you serious?" He just tilted his head in that oh so Rick way he had about him, and waited. She sighed and rolled her eyes to herself with a small private smile. They hadn't been doing this dance for very long, but she knew the steps fairly well already. He was taking control. "Ok," she agreed to play his game, she always did. "Where was I?"

"Something about vanity?" He pinched her clit gently between his fingers, "I think the Queen was being punished."

"Right," Michonne whimpered, "of course she was." Rick just grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows. Michonne raised her hand to brush away a stray curl that had fallen into his face. She trailed her fingertips down his cheek and along the curve of his strong jawline. "Well," she whispered, slightly transfixed by his beauty, "legend says that Poseidon, the God of the sea, placed Cassiopeia in the sky, upside down, to punish her for her arrogance."

Rick's fingers began to rub her clit again. Michonne moaned and rolled her hips against him, "God, I love your hands."

He leaned into her and kissed a path across her collarbone. "I know you do," he whispered.

The mix of the cool evening air and his warm breath against her skin caused her to shiver. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled closer into him. "There you go with that arrogance again," she teased, kissing him softly on top of his head.

"It's not arrogance, it's the truth." His hand moved deeper into her panties, seeking out her warm center. He found her wet and ready to take him. He slipped his long middle finger into her, curving the digit to massage her g-spot. Michonne moaned and moved one hand to cup her own breast, pinching the hardened nipple through her t-shirt. He pressed his flat palm against her clit, and continued to work her with his finger. "I love watching you like this. Pleasure looks good on you."

Michonne groaned at his words and her legs fell open wider, almost involuntarily. She had always enjoyed sex, but sex with Rick was different. With him, she was needy, gluttonous, lustful. "God Rick," she breathed out quietly, "what are you doing to me?"

Their eyes met and the air around them stilled. Michonne watched as Rick's eyes searched her face, what he was looking for she wasn't quite sure. His blue eyes made their way back to her deep brown ones, which were hooded with desire. His finger was still inside of her, slowly stroking, moving her closer to her peak. She struggled to keep her eyes open. Her head rolled back in pleasure. "I'm going to come, Rick."

"Not yet," his voice was soft but firm. "I'm just getting started. I haven't even taken your clothes off yet."

Rick stopped his intimate caress and removed his hand from between her legs. Michonne felt his absence with a palpable ache. He moved between her legs and pulled her tight black pants over her round bottom with a quick yank. He tried to look so calm and collected, but she knew that he was just as turned on as she was. Maybe more. "If my pants are coming off, then your's are too," she wiggled her hips and met his eyes with a lusty stare, "your Majesty."

He scoffed and tossed her pants to the side. Two strong fingers circled her ankle with a firm grip. His eyes were fixed to hers as he lifted one foot in his hands and kissed the inside of her ankle tenderly. "Tell me more about why the Queen needed to be punished."

"Are you going to take off your pants?"

He lifted her leg straight into the air and kissed along the curve of her toned calf, "Finish the story."

"Rick," she moaned, and then gasped when she felt his teeth sink gently into the flesh of her calf muscle.

"Finish the story."

The whispered command danced across her skin and she acquiesced with a groan of frustration. "You're terrible."

"You love it," he kissed her behind her knee. "I'm waiting."

"Um," Michonne swallowed and exhaled a calming breath. Rick was kissing up the inside of her thigh and she was having a hard time concentrating. His mouth was getting closer and closer to her throbbing core. She wanted to grab him by his hair and place him right at her center. Instead she placed her hands in her own hair and searched the recesses of her arousal rattled brain for the plot to a story that was now being used to torture her. "Cassiopeia said the she and her daughter, Andromeda, were more beautiful than the sea nymphs."

"Well, were they?" He looked up at her from between her legs, his mouth just inches away from her sex.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and stared back at him. "Yeah, but that's not really the point. You can't just go around saying things like that," she spread her legs wider in a silent command, "it's rude."

He just stared at her until a small smile formed on one side of his mouth, "I guess you have a point. Keep going." He slowly pushed two fingers inside of her.

Her breath caught in her throat as he massaged her inner walls with his fingers. She pumped her hips at him, all but begging for him to taste her. His fingers were beckoning for her to come, and she had no space left in her brain for storytelling. "I can't."

"Yes, you can." He licked through her wet folds with a flat tongue, moving around her clit, but not touching it, teasing her still, "What happened next?"

Michonne's leg started to shake, and a light sheen of sweat formed on her brow. "You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"Best thing that's happened to me all week," he confirmed with a small laugh.

Michonne exhaled and continued on with her story. "The sea nymphs didn't like it, they told Poseidon. He was _sensitive_ , so he threatened to destroy their land. They decided to sacrifice their daughter to a sea monster."

"Why do I feel like you're skipping over important information here?"

"Only a tiny little bit about Cepheus. I already told you that he's not that interesting." She rolled her hips into him, "Please, Rick."

He smiled and licked his lips, "Well, how can I say no when you ask so nicely?" He lowered his mouth to her wet center and traced his tongue around her clit in small tight circles.

The low groan that passed through her lips surprised them both. To her own ears, she sounded desperate. The woman she was before, even just two years ago, wouldn't recognize the woman she was now. The old Michonne was a lost soul who didn't believe that she deserved happiness, let alone pleasure. This new woman was happiness personified, and had found a pleasure that she hadn't known she'd been missing. Now that she knew, she didn't like being denied.

He still hadn't actually touched her clit, and she was starting to lose her patience. She closed her eyes and tangled her fingers in his hair, using her grip to guide him to where she wanted him. His fingers were still inside of her, firmly pressed against her spot. Michonne was so aroused, she was sure that she would explode the moment he touched her clit. He moved his mouth away from her wetness and she looked down at him with confusion in her eyes.

"So did they do it? Did they sacrifice her?" He wasn't done playing the game. His voice was quiet, she barely heard the question. But she felt it; his lips brushed against hers when he spoke.

"They tried," her whole body was trembling with need, "they chained her to a cliff and left her there for the sea monster to take."

"Wow," he said. "That's a shitty story, Michonne."

"It's a beautiful story. Andromeda doesn't die, Perseus saves her."

His eyes clouded for a second, as if he were thinking, and then a huge smile lit up his face. "I know this story! It's that movie, _Clash of the Titans._ With Laurence Olivier and Henry something..." he trailed off, searching for the actor's name.

"Harry Hamlin," Michonne supplied.

"Yes," he exclaimed, "that guy! I loved that movie."

Michonne looked down at him and couldn't help the smile that took over her face. This was not the same man who pulled up to the gates of Alexandria in that beat up Buick; skeptical and broken. This man was confident and strong. It made her heart expand in her chest, and took her breath away. She felt herself growing wetter and clenched her walls around his fingers that were still nestled inside of her. She wanted him more in that moment than she ever had before. "Rick," she purred, "stop talking now. Please?" Michonne tightened her grip in his hair and bucked her hips against him.

"Yes, my love," he said with a rakish smile.

He lowered his head and took her tiny bud into his mouth with a gentle sucking motion. Michonne's head fell back against the ground with a quiet thud as a deep groan erupted from her throat. "Yes," was all she could manage to choke out, as Rick worked his fingers on her g-spot. He licked her greedily, with a reverence that almost felt like worship. Her eyes were closed, but she could still see stars. They danced behind her eyelids with every stroke of his tongue. She could feel her orgasm building in her core, filling her whole body with heat. "Rick, I'm going to come."

"Do it," he muttered against her heated flesh.

He sucked her clit harder, pushing her higher towards her peak. Michonne held her breath, her muscles tightening with anticipation as she prepared to fall. "Rick," she moaned his name and then let go, plummeting into a deep ocean of warmth, as waves of pleasure washed over her. He continued to gently lap at her until she pushed his head away, too sensitive to take anymore of his attention. She barely registered the sound of his belt buckle being undone and clothing hitting the ground, before he was naked on top of her; his stiff erection hot against her skin.

"Take off your shirt," he commanded, tugging at the thin fabric.

"I can't," she said through labored breath, "I can't feel my arms."

Rick laughed and removed the offending garment, then palmed her full breasts with calloused hands. He took one nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the stiffened peak before moving on to the next.

Michonne reached between them to grab his hard length with a shaky hand. The silky thickness pulsed in her hand and a small drop of liquid pooled at the tip. She could feel his heart beating, the rapid pace thumping out a rhythm that matched her own. The weight of his naked body stole her breath, but she didn't push him away. Instead, she pulled him closer. She ran the head of his cock through her slick folds and around her clit, coating him in her juices.

"You're so wet," he groaned in her ear.

He entered her slowly, his breath leaving his body with a long hiss. He pulled out quickly, only to sink back into her just as slowly as before. Her hands moved to cup the firm globes of his ass. She could feel his muscles contracting as he thrust into her. She kneaded his flesh, digging her fingers into him with a force that was certain to leave bruises. "Harder," she panted.

He grabbed the back of her thigh and hoisted her leg over his hip. "Is this what you want?" The slight change in position made his cock go deeper than before and she moaned when he hit her spot.

"Oh God, yes." Rick increased his pace and slammed into her. A warmth formed at the base of her stomach that quickly spread through her body and made her skin tingle. Every thrust made the flames inside of her burn hotter, until she was sure that the fire would consume her. "Please Rick," she begged, not quite sure what she was begging for.

But he knew. He reached between them and pressed his fingers against her swollen nub. "My beautiful Queen," his lips traveled along the column of her slender neck and coated her skin with hot, wet kisses, "come for me."

Her orgasm exploded like a bomb in her core and billowed out, filling every part of her with heat. She cried out his name with a broken sob that almost felt painful in her dry throat. Their lips came together in a kiss that held a hint of her musk in its sweetness. She kissed him with ardor, sliding her tongue against his with long, slow strokes. His hips were still pumping into her, the rhythm he'd set becoming slightly more erratic as he neared his completion. He thrust into her twice, then grunted her name as he emptied himself inside of her in hot, long spurts.

He rolled off of her and snuggled in tight behind her sweat soaked body. The coarse hair of his beard tickled the sensitive skin of her shoulder. She shivered and he wrapped his arms tighter around her. The muscles in her stomach danced as his fingers traced light patterns against her belly button. She leaned into the solid wall of his chest and relished in the security of his arms. As much as she enjoyed having sex with Rick, it was the moments after sex that were her favorite. Being with him, like this, was a precious gift, one that she intended to cherish for as long as this world allowed her to.

"I can't believe you liked _Clash of the Titans._ " His _can't_ sounded like _caint_ and Michonne giggled to herself. His southern twang was always more pronounced after an orgasm."Do you know how hard I resisted making a joke about unleashing the Kraken?" The quiet question was followed by a soft shoulder kiss.

"Thank you for your restraint," she said with a small laugh. "Did you know that the movie isn't technically accurate? The Kraken isn't a monster from Greek lore, it's actually a Norse sea monster."

"You're such a smarty pants."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I was always being made fun of for having my nose in a book." Michonne let her mind drift back to her days in preparatory schools. She thought of the of plaid skirts and pep rallies and wondered if Judith would ever get to experience a life like that. Maybe it was better that she wouldn't. "My parents spent a lot of money on my smarty pants education."

"What happened to them?"

"Who, my parents? Or Andromeda and Perseus?" She asked through a small yawn. She was avoiding the question, they both knew it.

"Both, I guess." He was giving her an out. They both knew that too.

"My parents died. Mom, before; Dad, after." The answer she gave sounded curt, even to her own ears. The subject of her life before the turn wasn't something she really enjoyed discussing. She waited to feel the familiar tightening of her chest and the well of tears, those physical signs of her inner turmoil, but nothing came. The pain was still there, but it was less intense. "Maybe someday I'll tell you about them."

"I'd like that." His fingers brushed her skin as he moved her hair away from her neck, clearing the way for his lips. "And what about Perseus and Andromeda?"

"They're right there," she pointed to the sky, "with Cassiopeia and Cepheus. They got married and did the whole King and Queen thing. They had lots of kids and lived happily ever after."

"Hmmm," he exhaled a deep sigh, "sounds nice."

"Really?" She turned around in his embrace to look into his clear blue eyes. "Do you want more kids?"

"I don't know," he answered with raised eyebrows, "I guess I haven't really thought about it. Have you?"

"It's been on my mind," she admitted quietly.

"Really?"

"Well, we're not really doing anything to prevent it." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts into his chest. "We should get condoms." She wrapped her leg around his waist and felt his dick jump between them. She was still wet, and a little tender from their love making, but felt herself getting aroused just the same.

He kissed her lips softly. "What if I don't want to use condoms?"

"Then you better start pulling out. I can't exactly go and get a birth control prescription." His hand moved between them as he repositioned himself, now fully erect, at her entrance.

"What if I don't want to pull out?" He slipped inside of her easily, moving his hips in slow shallow thrusts.

"Well then, I guess you'd better get ready to hear another little one calling you Daddy," she said, looking into his eyes with a shy smile. His piercing blues searched her face again. She felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. "I don't know if we're ready for that," she admitted.

Rick climbed on top of her and deepened his thrusts, "But maybe someday?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I think we'd make a cute baby." He emphasised his point with a deep thrust of his hips, which made her moan.

Michonne's mind conjured an image of a little brown skinned girl with big brown eyes, and soft tufts of curly hair. "It would be nice for Judith to have a sibling closer to her own age," she reasoned. "I bet she'd be stubborn, like you."

"She?" Rick questioned.

Michonne just shrugged one shoulder.

He nodded his head and rolled his hips into hers again. "She'd be smart, like you." He kissed her neck. "And she'd have your eyes."

"And your smile."

"No, yours." His movements stopped and he looked into her eyes. "I love your smile. You have the most beautiful smile." He kissed her lips lightly.

Michonne sighed deeply and wrapped her legs around the beautiful man above her. She could feel his hard length pulsing inside of her. He was so alive, and virile. His taut body vibrated with an energy that crackled in the little air that existed between them. Their spark was too real to be ignored. Of course she would have his child. It just made sense. "So, someday?"

"Someday," he agreed with a peck to her flushed cheek.

"And you'll start pulling out?" She raised one eyebrow at him and pursed her lips in feigned derision.

He gave her a lascivious grin, "I'll try." He drove his hips into hers with a slow, deep thrust.

"Rick," she exclaimed; both because of his joking, and because of the delicious way he was filling her.

"Okay," he agreed with a begrudging groan, "I'll start pulling out." He wrapped his arms around her and cradled the back of her head in his hands. His nose traced the path of her hairline. She could feel his hot breath next to her ear. He wasn't even thrusting then, just slowly moving his hips from side to side, making certain to hit her clit with just the right amount of pressure to leave her wanting more. "What if you're already pregnant? We've been going at it like rabbits." He brought his gaze to hers with a shy smile, "It's not impossible."

"Then we'll figure it out. I'm still with you Rick. I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled and kissed her softly, "Yeah, I know."

It wasn't arrogance, it was just the truth.

* * *

 **That's it. Thanks for reading (and reviewing.) I've been getting some really great feedback, and do appreciate it. This fandom is so great. I love you all! Until next time, keep calm and Richonne on!**


	2. Chapter 1

**I have noticed that even those who assert that everything is predestined**

 **and that we can change nothing about it**

 **still look both ways before they cross the street.**

 **\- Stephen Hawking -**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Michonne was naked on the bed in the room she shared with Rick. A slight breeze blew through the open windows, rustling the long white sheers that hung there. The persistent hum of an oscillating fan underscored the wisps of air that swept across her sweat soaked skin. The dulcet tones of Rick's off key baritone floated out from the bathroom, humming a quiet tune that vaguely resembled the melody line of _Hotel California._ Singing Rick was a side of his personality that she'd only just recently been introduced to. He typically made his appearance right after Randy Rick got out of bed. She hadn't known either of them for very long, but now that they were intimately acquainted, she couldn't imagine starting her mornings without them. She giggled to herself and looked down at the small pool of sticky liquid that was gathered in her belly button, and also on the headboard behind her. Randy Rick's calling card. "Babe," she called, "what's taking you so long?"

The faucet shut off with a sudden jerk that caused the pipes to shudder and vibrate through the house. "I'm comin', woman. Calm down."

"Did you really just call me woman?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What, you don't like that?" He poked his head out of the bathroom and gave her a sly wink. "I'm just messin'." He crossed over to their bed and sat down next to her with a damp washcloth folded in his hands. "I had to wait for the water to get warm." He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. "You know I won't leave you here like this for too long."

"I know." Michonne sighed as the warmth of the washcloth hit her skin and Rick wiped her clean of the evidence of their lovemaking. He insisted on cleaning her up after they made love; claimed that it was a privilege to take care of her in that way. She pretended to be bothered by the attention, but really, she loved it. He always made her feel like such a treasure.

"There," he swiped the wet cloth against her skin and kissed her belly with a firm smack of his lips, "all clean."

"Thank you," she said.

"The pleasure was all mine." His eyes drifted over her face and the corner of his mouth tugged up in a small smile. "Well, maybe not _all_ mine." The muscles in his forearm stretched tight as he reached out to wipe the wet spot on the headboard above her. "I guess I was a little excited there, huh?" He winked at her again and stood to toss the soiled washcloth into the hamper on the other side of the room. "Wish I could stick around for a little more of that excitement, but duty calls."

Michonne sat upright and gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed, still a little weak from the orgasms Rick had given her just moments before. She winced when her feet hit the cold planks of the hardwood floor. It didn't seem to matter how high the temperature climbed in the summer here in Alexandria, the floor in their bedroom always brought a chill to her bones. "My kingdom for a throw rug," she muttered to herself. An image of the expensive spanish rug that used to cover the mahogany hardwood in the bedroom of her midtown high-rise condo came to mind, unbidden, and she shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Stretching her aching body, she stood and wrapped herself in her long, blue robe, before turning her attention back to Rick. "I wish you could stick around too, but you've got a lot on your plate today."

Michonne's unspoken reference to Negan caused a chill to settle into the room. Tomorrow was a scheduled pickup day, which meant there would be Saviors inside of their walls. Last month, Negan hadn't been pleased with their offering and threatened violence if he was disappointed again, so Rick was taking a few people out today on a last ditch effort supply run. Just to be on the safe side. He didn't like giving in to Negan's demands,none of them did, but there weren't any other options at the moment. Negan had them right where he wanted them.

She watched as Rick pulled his black jeans over his slim hips, followed by a simple white cotton tshirt. He stomped himself into his boots and reached for his watch, his back, rod straight with tension. Just like that, Singing Rick had taken his leave, and Worried Rick was here in his place. She knew Worried Rick very well. They'd spent a lot of time together. She crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. "It won't be like this for long, babe. We're going to get through this."

"I know we will," Rick agreed. He turned around in her loose embrace and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "What are _your_ plans for the day?"

Michonne exhaled a frustrated breath, his abrupt change of subject not going unnoticed. "I have to meet with the construction team and finalize the details for the north side of the wall. It's been such a hassle to get Abraham and Tobin on the same page. I've been losing my mind dealing with the two of them." She gave him a tiny peck on the lips and crossed to her dresser to pull out the clothes she would wear for the day. "But, if all goes well at this meeting, we'll be breaking ground next week. There's going to be a ceremony and everything. Maggie is organizing a dedication to Deanna. It's turning into a big deal. You know, after everything that's... happened. And uh, I'm going to need you to be there. I forgot to tell you that."

Rick hated being obligated to community engagements, and she braced herself for the complaint that she was sure he'd issue. When nothing came, she turned to look at him and worried at the sight he posed. He stood with his head bent low and his jaw clenched into an angry line as he tugged at the uncooperative buckle of his holster. "Rick?"

His head snapped up with a start, "I'm sorry love, what did you say?"

A heavy sigh passed through her lips and she made her way to her distracted boyfriend. "We'll deal with it later." She wrapped her arms around his waist again and looked up into his eyes. "I'm worried about you, Rick."

"I'm fine," he protested and tried to pull away, but she wouldn't let him.

"No, you're not. We've been here before, where tragedy strikes and you retreat. That's not happening again." She tightened her grip on his waist and looked up into his eyes. "I need you. I'm serious. I know this shit with Negan has your mind messed up, and that's ok. It has my mind messed up too. And I know you're angry. But you have to stay focused, Rick. We can't afford to get wrapped up in our feelings right now. Anger just makes you stupid."

"And stupid gets you killed," he sighed and kissed the top of her head. "Believe me, I know. So does arrogance."

"It can. But you didn't get Daryl killed, Rick. It wasn't your fault. Negan is the only one who can take the blame for that. And he's going to pay for what he did. We have to be smart about it, but he'll pay. We'll make sure of it."

"Damn right we will." He ran his hand over the back of his neck and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"You're so tense. Relax." Michonne leaned into him and rubbed her lips lightly over his. "I'm right here. We're okay." She ran her tongue along the outline of his mouth and smiled when he felt his small groan vibrate against her lips.

"If you want me to relax, what you're doing isn't really gonna cut it. It's kinda having the opposite effect." He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him and she moaned when she felt him hardening against her. "See what you started?"

Her mouth opened with a breathy sigh and he seized her lips, his tongue sliding against hers in a slow, deliberate dance. His hand cupped her breast and she felt her nipples harden at his touch. "Rick," she moaned his name, "don't you ever get tired?"

"Not of you," he mumbled through their kisses.

She smiled against his lips. Worried Rick was gone, and Randy Rick was back. She loved Randy Rick, but he was trouble. "No." She summoned up every bit of strength she had and gently pushed him away. "You have to get going."

He reached for her, "I thought that's what I was doing."

"Rick, go." She placed her index finger against his plump, pink lips, "Now."

He smirked against her finger before kissing the digit gently. "Yes, ma'am."

A smile broke out on her face as she watched him make his way across the room, his bow-legged gait making her want to call him back to finish what they'd started. His name was on the tip of her tongue to do just that, when her stomach growled with hunger pangs. She had the sudden craving for salt. "Rick, can you try to find me some potato chips while you're out there, please?"

He just laughed, very accustomed to her last minute requests, "As soon as I get 'em, you will."

She smiled. "You be good out there."

"Yeah, we'll see." Humming again, he tossed her a smile and left the room, closing the door behind him. Sending anyone other than Worried Rick out the door in the morning felt like a win, but when it was Singing Rick, it felt extra special. Singing Rick was happy, and he made her happy too.

Finally alone, Michonne stretched her back with a deep groan. A feeling of fatigue had been plaguing her for a few days now, and she worried that it could be the beginnings of a summer flu. She made a mental note to stop by and see Rosita at the infirmary after her lunch date with Sasha.

She dressed casually in a loose fitting pair of khaki shorts and a blue tank top, and was just slipping on her open toed sandals when she heard a knock at the door. It was Carl. He had developed a habit of walking into his father's room unannounced, but it had only taken one ill timed entrance, and an eyeful of his parents fumbling to cover themselves like awkward teenagers, to break him of that habit for good. "Come in," she called out to him.

Carl entered the room with his little sister on his hip. "G'morning, Michonne." He looked around the room. "Is dad already gone?"

"Good morning. And yes, you just missed him." She crossed over to the children and took Judith from Carl's arms. "Good morning, angel. How's my sweet girl?"

"Say good morning, Mama." Carl spoke to his sister in a sweet baby voice and Michonne felt her heart clench. He'd been trying to get Judith to call Michonne _mama_ for quite some time now, but it still filled her with warmth every time she heard him do it.

"And how's my _other_ sweet one?" She leaned over to kiss him on top of his head.

"Ugh," he groaned, side stepping her embrace with a laugh, 'You're so mushy lately. What's up with you?"

She looked at the young man before her and fought back a sudden rush of tears. He was strong and capable, and she was completely overwhelmed by his caring nature. It saddened her to no end that Andre would never meet Carl, that he'd never get to learn how to take care of himself in this new world like his big brother had. "After everything you've been through, you're still so generous, and kind. And I just love you, so much. Even when you're being a little shit. And I really think Andre would have loved you, too." Her voice broke slightly and she let out a choked laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm being ridiculous."

"Michonne..." Carl was by her side in an instant, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I was just messin' with you. And, I _know_ I would have loved Andre. I already do." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"Aw, kid. I know that, too." Michonne took a deep, calming breath. Judith could see that her mama was upset and used a tiny hand to wipe away her tears. Michonne captured the little girl's fingers in her mouth, and smiled at her squeal of delight. Carl was right, she had been acting mushy lately, but with Judith on her hip, and Carl in her arms, mushy just felt like the right thing to be. "Like I said, I'm being ridiculous. Just ignore me." She kissed the top of his head and gave him a tight, one armed squeeze. "Come on, let's go change your bandage so I can get to this God forsaken meeting."

* * *

Michonne used the folder that housed the wall expansion plans to fan herself in the heat of the early afternoon sun. To her delight, Abraham and Tobin had both shown up with the spirit of compromise tugging at their heartstrings, and the meeting had gone off without a hitch. Michonne had a sneaking suspicion that Sasha was more than just a little responsible for Abraham's newly giving nature, and she was beyond grateful for it.

The two ladies had just finished sharing a modest lunch, and were now making their way towards the infirmary while they discussed Sasha's burgeoning relationship with Abraham. Michonne thought Sasha seemed happy enough, but she had her reservations about her friend's relationship with the boisterous redhead. Sasha had mourned Bob deeply, and for a long time, and Michonne hoped that she'd finally found some peace in his death.

There was also the issue of how Rosita was handling the situation. If Spencer sneaking out of Rosita's place a few times a week for the past few months was any indication of her feelings on the matter, she'd wager that Rosita was doing just fine. Still, Michonne could see that it was a sticky situation, one that her friends hadn't quite yet figured out how to navigate. She didn't want to be put in the middle of any tension between the two women. She really just wanted to support her friends, both of them, and decided that the best way to do that was to keep her opinions to herself until she was asked for them.

"So, after all that," Sasha explained, in the middle of a story that Michonne had missed the beginning of, "I think he was trying to say that he wants to have a baby with me. Can you believe that?"

"Really?" Michonne cleared her throat in an attempt to hide her surprise. "How do you feel about that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sasha shook her head, her lush curls, fashioned in a loose twist out, bounced around her pert face. "That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard. What the hell would Abe and I do with a baby? Maggie and Glenn, we are not, you know what I mean? Besides, I don't know if I could even deal with having a baby anymore. Too much stress and worry."

Michonne thought about the ever present fear she felt for Judith's safety and understood exactly what Sasha meant. In these days, if you wanted to survive, you had to be able to take care of yourself. No one was more vulnerable than a child, and she understood that better than anyone. Losing her little boy was the hardest thing she'd ever had to face, and she still carried the guilt of his death around with her, like a heavy weight in her heart.

Andre been on her mind a lot lately, ever since that midnight picnic she shared with Rick a couple of months ago. She had pushed the pain of losing him so far down, and for so long, it had almost become easy to believe that she'd actually let it go. Now, for some reason, her heart ached with almost daily reminders of his short presence in her life. She'd sometimes hear his infectious laugh while she was reading Judith a story, or feel the phantom touches of his tiny fingers just before sleep claimed her at night. It seemed that just the _thought_ of having another baby was enough to have her seeing ghosts. She wondered what it would take to make her start talking to them again.

"Speaking of having babies," she turned and looked at her friend with a small half smile,"I think Rick wants to have a baby with me. Actually, I know he does." The confession spilled out of her without much thought.

"How do you know?" Sasha asked, shocked.

"He said, _I think we'd make a cute baby_." Now that the words were out there, she didn't quite know what to do with them.

"He said that?" Michonne nodded, and winced when Sasha smacked her arm with a shriek of excitement. "Holy shit, Michonne! When did this happen?"

"A couple of months ago," she shrugged, feigning a nonchalance that she certainly didn't feel.

"Well, what did you say?" Sasha asked.

Michonne bowed her head and tucked a wayward loc behind her ear with a private smile to herself. She'd said a lot of things that night, they both had, but how does one explain the promises that lovers make to one another in the dark? "I told him that I thought he was right. That we would make a cute kid, someday."

Sasha's jaw dropped, "You want to have a baby."

Michonne laughed and shook her head. "I don't know if that's true. It's just…" She didn't know what to say. The words that were taking shape in her head were all forming into questions that she didn't seem to have the answers to. "I don't know, Sasha. I guess I just wonder if maybe this is all happening too quickly. You know, Rick and I have really only known each other for a little over a year now. This is all kinda brand new."

"Is it? Mich, I lost Bob in an instant. Tyreese, too. It can all go away," she snapped her fingers to emphasize her point, "just like that. So what does it really mean to 'move too fast' these days?" Sasha's brow furrowed with confusion. "Does that kind of thing even really matter now?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "it certainly used to. At least to me." She slowed her walk and stopped in front of the steps to the infirmary. Lunch was sitting in her stomach like a brick, and the heat of the day was making her feel queasy. She exhaled a terse breath to settle the churning sensation in her stomach before she continued speaking. "Aren't you the one who _just_ told me that she couldn't deal with having a baby in all of this."

"Touche'. But I'm not the one in a relationship with Rick Grimes. You two are like the King and Queen of this place. It's different for you."

Those words again, King and Queen. When did everyone around her start comparing their lives to Disney movies? "This isn't a fairytale, Sasha," she mumbled.

"You think I don't know that? Me, of all people?" Sasha exhaled and ran a hand over her face. Her voice was quiet when she spoke again. "We've all lost at this, Michonne, and lost big. But I told you before, it worked out for you. What you have with Rick and the kids is something that you don't see a whole lot of these days. Or hell, even before. You guys are a real family. You have been for a long time. I used to envy you for that, you know? I still kinda do, if I'm being honest."

Michonne's heart broke for her friend, "I'm so sorry, Sasha."

"No. Don't you dare apologize for being happy, Michonne. You deserve this. Of course you and Rick are considering adding to your family. It's actually perfect, if you think about it," she said with a smile.

Michonne sighed with the weight of realization. "I think that's what I'm afraid of. Maybe it's all a little _too_ perfect. What if we're tempting fate? What if we're taking on too much? Being too bold? We've already lost so much, we can't lose anymore. I can't keep collecting ghosts."

A wave of nausea washed over her and she grimaced as the burning sensation of bile rose in her throat. The air around her felt sticky and close. She bent over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"Whoa," Sasha said, "careful there. Are you okay?"

She blinked her eyes, hard, and focused on a crack in the sidewalk to stop her head from spinning. "Yeah, I'm fine, I've just been feeling a little sick. I think I'm coming down with something. I feel a little hot. And sweaty. That's all."

The door to the infirmary opened with a loud bang, and the two women jumped in surprise. Rosita stepped outside with a look of concern etched into her face. "Everything okay out here?"

"Michonne damn near passed out," Sasha explained.

"I'm fine," Michonne assured her friends. She hated being the center of attention, especially for something that could be perceived as a weakness. Rosita joined Sasha on the sidewalk, and together, they looked her over with fussy hands. Michonne shooed them away, her face pulled tight with a scowl of agitation. "I'm fine. I just need some water."

"Well let's get you inside and out of this heat," Rosita instructed, taking control of the situation.

Once inside, Michonne sat on the makeshift exam table. She happily accepted the glass of water that Rosita handed her and took a large gulp. The cool liquid soothed her burning throat and settled her stomach. "Thank you, I feel a lot better."

Confident that her friend wasn't in any real danger, Sasha seemed to visibly relax. "You had me worried there, Mich. I'm not used to seeing you go down like that."

"Tell me what happened." Rosita placed her hands on the side of Michonne's face and looked into her eyes with and intense glare.

Michonne opened up about her recent bouts with nausea and fatigue while Rosita looked her over. "I'm sure it's just a stomach flu or something."

Rosita placed a thermometer under Michonne's tongue. "Have you eaten anything out of the ordinary lately?"

"No," she mumbled against the tiny glass tube between her lips, "it's not like I have a ton of options for take-out these days, Sita."

"I know, just covering my bases." Rosita placed delicate fingers on Michonne's neck and checked her glands for inflammation, then removed the thermometer to check the results."Your temperature is fine. When was your last period?"

Michonne thought back to the last time she remembered having her period. It was late April. The date stood out in her mind because it had been a trying time in the Grimes' household. Judith had gotten sick and Carl was being particularly ornery, and she'd been saddled with the most terrible bout of cramps. "I guess it was two months ago?"

Rosita raised an eyebrow at her. "You skipped your last period?"

"No," Michonne explained, "I got it. It was just really light. Kinda spotty. I didn't think it was a big deal. I've been kind of irregular lately."

"Yeah, ever since Rick's been trying to put a baby in you," Sasha interjected.

"Sasha," Michonne shushed her friend.

"Are you and Rick trying to have a baby?" Rosita's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Yes," Sasha offered.

"Sasha!" Michonne scolded her friend for the second time.

"Look, Michonne, you almost passed out in the middle of the street, and _Rosie the Medic_ here is the closest thing we have to a doctor. I know it's none of my damn business, but I think she should have all the information necessary to make sure you're okay. So please, tell Army Barbie what she needs to know about your uterus so that we can get on with it." Sasha crossed her arms over her chest and gave Michonne a pointed look.

"Thanks, Sasha." Rosita's voice was dry and unenthused. "I think."

Sasha scoffed her reply and took a seat in the corner of the room.

Michonne turned her gaze to the newly appointed community medic, and redirected the conversation, hoping to nip the contentious buds taking root between her two friends before anything started to grow. "We are not trying to have a baby, we just aren't necessarily trying _not_ to have one."

"So you're not using protection?" Rosita questioned.

Michonne thought back to this morning and Randy Rick's calling card. "Not... really."

Rosita smiled and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Then it sounds like you're trying to have a baby." She crossed over to a large cabinet and reached inside to find a pregnancy test, which she tossed in Michonne's direction. "Only one way to know for sure."

Michonne caught the little purple and white box and stood from the exam table with a sigh. "I'm not pregnant. I can't be pregnant, I got my period last month."

"I thought you said it was spotty," Sasha turned to Rosita, "didn't she say it was spotty?"

"Definitely said spotty," Rosita confirmed with a nod of her head.

"You guys! This is just a stupid bug, and you both are going to feel so silly for over reacting." But even as she said the words, she knew that there was a strong possibility that she was indeed, pregnant. This was, after all, Randy Rick that she was dealing with. She crossed to the bathroom and turned to look back at her friends. "What if I am pregnant?" The two ladies looked at each other with amused expressions before turning their gazes back to their nervous friend.

"Well, then I guess the ASZ is having another baby," Sasha answered plainly.

"Lucky for you, you've got one hell of a village, 'cause I hear that's what it takes." Rosita said with a smile. "Now go pee on the damn stick, I can't stand the suspense."

Michonne took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, "Here goes nothing."

* * *

Rick walked through the door earlier than usual that afternoon. The supply run ended up being a pretty big success. They'd found a storage unit that miraculously hadn't been touched. It was full of clothes, food, dry goods, weapons, and medical supplies. Someone must have created a stockpile that they, unfortunately, had never been able to use. But that person's loss was their community's gain, and it would provide them all with a little bit of relief. Score one for Singing Rick.

Still, he wasn't in the best of moods. The tension that was in his back earlier that morning was still there and she knew it was all about Negan. His people would come in to the ASZ tomorrow, and just walk away with half of the community's supplies. They were engaged in an all out war, and tomorrow was another battle that her side was going to lose. But the war was far from over, and she and Rick were building a strategy for the long game. Unfortunately, that meant Negan was at the forefront of both of their minds. She hated that she would have to share this night with that sociopath. But her's was the kind of news that couldn't wait to be told.

She sent the kids to Maggie's and prepared a special dinner for Rick. She wanted to be dressed before he got home, but his early arrival had thrown off her timing. Instead, she sent him to shower and change while she did the same. After they were both clean and dry, they met in the kitchen and worked together to finish prepping for dinner. Soft music played as they danced around each other. He set the table while she took the casserole out of the oven to cool; they were perfectly in sync, as always.

Dinner was comfortable and relaxed. He talked about his day, and she finally told him about Deanna's upcoming dedication ceremony. She tried to bring up the pregnancy during dessert, but the timing didn't seem quite right. She tried again while they were washing the dinner dishes, but then Rick broke a glass, and telling him while he was sweeping the floor just seemed wrong. By the time they'd made their way to the backyard to admire the stars, an activity that had become one of their favorite pastimes, she'd tried to tell him about the pregnancy at least five different times, but she just hadn't been able to find the words. Now they were in the kitchen, preparing to retire to their bedroom for the evening, and Michonne knew that she couldn't put it off any longer. "So, uh… remember that night when you set up that romantic backyard picnic, and we made love under the stars?"

"How could I forget?" His arms made their way around her waist and she leaned into his sturdy frame. "Why, you want to do it again? Because I think that can be arranged."

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. The soft cotton of his t-shirt held the faint scent of laundry detergent and mixed pleasantly with a smell that was somewhat wild, and all Rick. "As tempting as that sounds, no. At least, not right now." She placed her hands on his chest and looked up into his eyes. "Do you remember what we talked about that night?"

"I remember what we _did_ that night." His hands reached down to grab her ass with a playful squeeze.

"Rick, I'm serious." She could always count on Randy Rick.

"Okay, I'm sorry." He locked his bright blue eyes on hers and bit back a smile. "Yes, I remember what we talked about." His hands made their way into her back pockets and he held her with a possessive grip. "That's when you told me that you would have my baby."

"Someday," she amended.

"Someday." He punctuated his word with a kiss.

"Right. Well…"

His eyes widened as he waited for her to continue, but she just stared back at him with wide eyes if her own. "Well, what?"

"Someday seems to have arrived a lot sooner than we'd anticipated," she said.

"Are you tellin' me that you're pregnant?"

She nodded and tears formed in her eyes. "I took a test today and it was positive. I'm pregnant, Rick. We're having a baby."

"You're kidding me?" He picked her up and twirled her in a circle. She could feel his laughter vibrating through his chest. He placed her down with care. "But, how? We've been careful," he reasoned.

"Have we?" She she raised an eyebrow in his direction and gave him a tentative smile.

"Well, mostly." He kissed her lips. "This is what you've been afraid to tell me all night?"

She nodded, it figured he knew something was up. "I just couldn't find the words."

He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I got you somethin' today." He pulled a small package from his back pocket. "I couldn't find any potato chips, but I did find this."

She took the package from him and examined the contents. It was a small silicone cup encased in thin plastic packaging. "You got me a diaphragm?"

He shrugged his response, "Too little, too late, I suppose."

"Oh, Rick." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he returned her kiss, adding a nibble to her lips that made her knees weak. "But that's not really the issue at hand, is it?"

"No," she sighed a deep breath, "I don't suppose that it is."

"You don't seem happy about this," he said.

"Of course I'm happy, Rick. I told you that I wanted this, and I meant that." She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed when his hands caressed her back with slow, easy strokes. "But I'm also scared. I can't help but wonder if we're making the right choice here. You remember what it was like out there, Rick... having Judith… out there." Her voice broke as tears rolled down her cheeks and bled into his t shirt. "I lost myself out there, but you brought me back. And I've been by your side ever since. I asked you for one more day with a chance, just one, and you have given me so much more than that. I am literally carrying our future inside of me and…" She looked up into his eyes and was surprised to see his blue depths swimming with an uncertainty that mirrored her own. "I'm just really scared, Rick. This happened much faster than I thought it would, and my mind is having a hard time catching up with my heart."

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead lightly. They stood that way for a long while, the silence between them a soothing salve to the burning sting of truth ringing in the air. He was the one to break the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "Lori was scared too, with Judy. She uh… she told me that she didn't want to bring a baby into this world. She said that our baby would live a short , cruel life, and that we couldn't protect the child we already had. I've thought about that many times since she died, and sometimes I wonder if she was right. Carl's been shot twice, and we almost lost Judith. If it hadn't been for Tyreese and Carol, we would have." Rick took a deep breath and exhaled it on a troubled sigh. "But when I hold my little girl, I know... I'd do just about anything for a chance."

They made their way to the living room and sat next to each other on the couch. Michonne smiled when he reached out to take her hand, much like he had the first time they'd kissed. It seemed like that night was so long ago, and that she and Rick had been together like this since forever. Maybe in some sense, they had. Maybe the basket of baby formula that led her to the prison was the bridge over the gap between her past and her future. Maybe it didn't really matter which road she chose, because maybe they all led to the same place: right here with Rick, and their children.

"I'm not always good with words, Michonne, but I guess what I'm saying is that I couldn't hear Lori when she told me how she felt. You know me, sometimes I only hear what I wanna hear, and to me, _I'm scared_ sounded a lot like _I don't trust you_. I didn't handle the situation all that well, I know that, and I'd like to do better this time. I'm obviously happy about this. You know that I wanted this to happen. But we both know that this isn't really about what I want. You're the most important factor in this equation, Michonne." He pulled her into his lap. "So, what do _you_ want?"

Months had passed since she'd first heard that question asked, but hearing Deanna's words echoed back to her from Rick's mouth made her dizzy. She'd searched for an answer to that question for a long time, tilling seeds of possibility through the soils of her mind, praying that something would take root. Now that she knew exactly what she wanted, she realized that the answer to that question was the same today as it had been when Deanna asked her all those months ago. "I want this to work. I want us to be able to keep our family safe. That's what I want."

"I want that too, Michonne. And I fight for it, everyday. I know a part of you is afraid that this Negan business is going to cause me to go off the rails again, but I'm going to keep us safe. You know that. I'm not going to let anything happen to our children, and I'm damn sure not going to let anything happen to you. You are the love of my life, Michonne, and I will keep us safe. I promise you that." He nuzzled his nose against hers in a faint eskimo kiss. "Do you trust me?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes, her own filling with tears. "With everything I am." A smile formed on his face that made her insides dance.

"That's what I like to hear." He gave her a firm kiss on the lips. "We can do this."

So much could go wrong with this pregnancy, there really was no way of ensuring that she and the baby would come out of this unscathed. She knew that, and of course Rick knew it too. Just like they both knew that walls couldn't promise safety. But when she thought about the possibility of a little brown skinned girl, with her mother's big brown eyes, and a poofier version of her father's curly hair, Michonne knew that, just like Rick, she would do anything for a chance. _Their_ chance. A huge smile lit up her face. "We're going to have a baby," she exclaimed.

"We're going to have a damn baby!" Giggles erupted out of her as he tickled her waist and pushed her gently onto her back. He placed soft kisses all over her face and neck then looked up into her eyes. "I can't wait to tell Carl and Judith."

"Do you think they'll be happy?" She asked.

"I do," he assured her. "I'm sure that Carl will be scared. He's already lost one mother to childbirth, so how could he not be?"

She inhaled a deep breath and let it go with a heavy sigh, "It's a scary situation. Rosita isn't a doctor, you know?"

"I know, but Harlan is. And Hilltop isn't that far away. Look at Maggie, she and her baby are doing just fine. Things are different now. We're different. I don't want you to worry. I told you," he kissed her lips softly, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

She nodded and pulled him closer into her body, burying her face in the crook of his neck, "I know you won't." Tiny pulses of electricity shot through her as his fingers found her waist, stroking her skin with heated caresses. "And I am happy, Rick. I _really_ am. You know how I am, I just have to work through everything in my head first. My biggest concern at the moment is telling the kids. I don't want them to feel like I'm trying to replace Lori. Or that this baby will somehow be more important to us than they are. We're a family, now more than ever. I want them to know that nothing is going to change that."

"The kids will be fine. They'll be happy, I'm sure of it. Michonne," He sat up and pulled her up with him so that they were facing one another on the couch. "You've been a mother to my children for the better part of our time together. I know we don't talk about this kinda stuff all that much, but it's true. I know for a fact that Carl thinks of you that way. He told you as much the day he found Deanna out in the woods, remember? And as for Judy," he took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles gently, "you're the only mother she's ever known. Or ever gonna know, for that matter. This is it for me, Michonne. You and me, and our children. In fact," he moved her off of his lap and lowered himself to the floor, supporting his weight on one knee. "I've been waiting for the right time to give this to you, and it looks like that time is right now."

Michonne gasped as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful, princess cut, solitaire, diamond engagement ring. The precious stone glinted in the light from the table lamp, shining like the north star. It was beautiful. "Oh, Rick! What are you doing?"

"I'm asking you to marry me. I can't get through this life without you 'Chonne, and I don't even want to try. This world doesn't even make sense without you by my side."

Her heart was pounding in her chest. She'd wanted this, wanted him for a very long time. Still a small part of her worried at the timing. "Are you asking me this because of the baby?"

"I'm asking because I love you. Do you know when I found this ring?" She only shook her head in response. "I found this the same day I stopped wearing my wedding ring. I was out with Daryl and it caught my eye. I saw it and I thought of you, Michonne. I thought of they way you smile at me, like I'm the reason for your happiness. I thought of the kids, and how well you know them. How you love them like they're your own. I thought about how warm this house feels, and how that's all because of you. And I thought about all of this long before the night we kissed. You gave us a home, babe. You're my chance. In my mind, you're already my wife. Let me make it official. Father Gabriel can perform the ceremony. Carl can give you away. Judy can be a flower girl." He looked at her with his beautiful, bright blue stare and gave her his most charming smile, "Marry me, Michonne. Be my wife."

She didn't have to think twice. "Yes, Rick, I will marry, you." Her heart soared.

* * *

 **That's it. I didn't have a beta review this, so all mistakes are mine. As always, please consider this a work in progress. I had plans to continue this story and explore the relationships between the women, and how they are influenced/changed by the men they associate with, but I think I'm going to leave it where it is, for now. Maybe some day I'll come back to it. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I appreciate it more than you know. (And please follow me on Tumblr. I sometimes write things there that I don't post here.)**


End file.
